


And when I fall for you? Then what?

by saichadelic



Category: Naruto
Genre: Agoraphobia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Sai is an exotic dancer, Surprisingly Fluffy, Yamato is a nervous wreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saichadelic/pseuds/saichadelic
Summary: ‘Do you not like proximity, Yamato?’ Luna asked, and those eyes felt like the scratch of a marker pen over his skin, as though the trail that gaze took on Yamato’s face would be visible for everyone to see.‘I don’t mind it, I need to get better.’‘Would you like to get better with me?’***Yamato goes to a strip club where he meets a particularly fascinating dancer.
Relationships: Sai/Yamato | Tenzou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	And when I fall for you? Then what?

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta-ed, my first Naruto fic, my first smut fic, AND the first long form piece of writing I've done in months so I'm sorry in advance.

He hadn’t intended to get a dance. 

The intense pink and green strobing club lights and thrumming stage music had made Yamato uncomfortable from the get go, an assault to his senses the made him feel heady and overwhelmed moments after stepping into the darkened club. It was a Wednesday so the club was quiet, with an almost empty dance floor and only a few of the tables occupied. A few bachelorette parties and one table of business men, already with a table full of empty glasses.

He hadn’t even wanted to come to the bar in the first place. It was only thanks to Kakashi’s insistent nagging that he was here, sitting at a table next to the head of the stage, a chilled beer in one hand and a swab of singles in the other. He’d said 'no’ one too many times and his guilty conscious of constantly blowing Kakashi off for the comfort of his own home had finally lost out to his friend’s surprisingly effective puppy-dog eyes.

Kakashi was eyeing the stage eagerly, the edges of a smirk peaking out from the facemask hooked over his mouth but under his skinny nose. The spotlights on the stage were rising from a dull, warm light to brighter, flashing lights and with every stroke of colour the excitement crinkled Kakashi’s eyes into stronger and stronger crescents.Yamato, on the other hand, was muddled with embarrassment, gaze shifting from the still empty stage to the condensation gathering on the beer bottle in his hand. He picked at the paper brand tag that was starting to peel off the bottle with his thumb nail, ignoring the way those pink green lights strived to catch his attention.

‘Cheer up, Yamato,’ Kakashi called to him over the swelling music. ‘You look like a man at a funeral.’

Yamato sighed, even though he knew Kakashi wouldn’t hear it, and replied, ‘I don’t know where I’m supposed to look.’

Kakashi laughed and leaned across the table to slap against the bare skin of Yamato’s arm. ‘Loosen up,’ he said, and his tone was light but there was a furrow of concern wormed into his eyebrow. ‘I wanted to bring you here to have fun, remember?’

Yamato went to nod but was interrupted by a voice that thrummed over the loudspeaker to announce the start of the show. The performers were called Sol and Luna, apparently.

A swell of excited voices waved through the club and the music rose even more to an almost ear-aching volume, the song surprisingly slow. A swaying, sensual sound with a pretty and feminine voice lilting over it. Those flickering pink and green lights stilled to a murky blue that throbbed bright and dull to the beat of the song as two slight men entered the stage. Kakashi hooted in excitement next to him and he fought the way his body was dying to shrink away, to curl into the comforting back of the plastic chair he was perched in.

The men on the stage, Sol and Luna, were undeniably pretty; all sharp angles contrasting against soft skin and delicate makeup. It was obvious even from a cursory glance who was Sol and who was Luna. Sol had bright blonde hair, tinged luminous blue under those strong stage lights, he was tanned and dewy and he wore a relaxed smile even as he swayed his hips gently from side to side. He interacted with the small crowd in a pleased, cheeky way, leaning over the side of the stage to stroke along the clefted chin of one of the drunk business men or presenting the strap of his underwear, just barely peaking out from the top of his tight low-slung trousers, to one of the women eagerly waving cash at him. His smile was warm, happy and approachable. He was attractive in a comforting and friendly way. 

Luna, on the other hand, was stoic. He fit the vibe of the song well. His eyes were glassy and bored and his small mouth was a straight unbothered line. He ignored the crowd almost entirely to focus on his routine, his skinny fingers ran from the top of his head, catching in his silly black hair, down his pale face, he grazed over his neck and collarbones and nipples with the barely there tips of his fingers and traced over the dips and curves of his stomach muscles so delicately that Yamato could see his abdomen twitch under the tickle. He was intimidating in his beauty, skin so pale that under the blue light he almost seemed to radiate an alien teal aura fitting of his stage name. When his gaze slid over Yamato he reflexively dropped his eyes back down to the table. He took a swig of his beer before looking back to the stage.

Kakashi was losing his shit, hollering to the pretty blond and waving his hand of singles. And when Sol walked over, a wide grin spread across his face as he bent down on hands and knees to take the notes with teeth, Kakashi’s giggle was so loud that Yamato heard it even over the music. It earned Kakashi a more sincere looking smile and a patronising pat on the head from Sol before he sauntered to the back of the stage to wrap himself around the length of a dance pole. He tried again, this time with Luna, waving the money and calling for his attention as he danced only a few feet away from their table, but Luna didn’t seem to care. He looked at Kakashi; at the lone $5 bill he was waving, raised an eyebrow, and continued to dance in his same spot. 

‘Shit, that’s kinda hot, don’t you think?’ Kakashi said, he turned to Yamato who just nodded. The whole place was sensory and overwhelming, the smell of stale alcohol cloying in Yamato's nose and the feeling of the condensation on his beer rolling over his knuckles. The lights and music a constant thrum. Of course it was a place that Kakashi would thrive because Kakashi was like a social epicentre, an apex of comfortable energy that never seemed to be out of place anywhere. But Yamato didn’t thrive in environments like this, didn’t enjoy the feeling of not being in control of his own sensory input. 

The songs trailed one after another, never fading to complete silence before transitioning into the next, so it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Kakashi continued to lure Sol over to him and with each note that passed between them, Sol got more and more affectionate with him. Each boost in affection increasing the value of the note Kakashi shilled over. Luna never approached a single person. At some point, one of the bachelorette parties started to throw their money over to the pole that he was dancing against, and it was only then that he trailed his body down the shiny metal, arched along the floor, and began to slip the notes into the thin band of what was undeniably a thong pulled up and hugging over his hipbones. 

Yamato didn’t know what to do with the money in his hand. It felt heavy and unused. He tried to hand it over to Kakashi, who seemed to be burning through his in record speed, but was rejected.

‘I’ve gotta go piss,’ Kakashi said, in rebuttal to the fistful of money. ‘Just stick your hand out and that blonde guy will come over and take it from you.’ He patted a reassuring hand onto Yamato’s shoulder before leaving the table.

The song merged into a quicker beat and Luna stepped towards the front of the stage, the pointed end of his heeled shoe only a foot away from the edge of Yamato’s table. He moved in time to the music, rolling his body softly but in a way that emphasised the long, flat expanse of his stomach, the curve of his back when he arched, the outline of his dick in his tight shorts, before he sunk to the floor. The audience was loud and pulsing in Yamato’s ears and his vision was full of Luna, that blue light radiating off his skin and hair and the bored expression in his eyes. Luna was close enough that Yamato smelled his cologne over the staleness of alcohol and it was a fresh and minty smell, like early mornings or ice water after toothpaste. He writhed onto his back, arching into an obscene curve and a shower of notes fluttered over his body from the other tables. When he rolled back onto his tummy, grinding into the stage as he swept up the money, he was facing Yamato. His bored expression was drifting up and down him, lingering on the money in his hand.

Yamato’s chest constricted, the minty cologne catching in his throat. Luna tilted his head, a nicely shaped eyebrow raised slightly in question and hips still rolling in small waves to the beat of whatever song was playing. Yamato felt the weight of Luna’s gaze like a physical heaviness against him. He put his beer down, took one note from the stack in his other hand, and stretched it out towards the performer. 

Luna's smile was wide, all bared teeth, his eyes still flat and uncaring as he rolled onto his side to allow the band of his thong to be in Yamato’s reach. The pose jutted the dancer’s hips in his direction, and when he slid the note under that thin strip of elastic Yamato couldn’t help but notice the natural sheen that seemed to highlight the dips of the bones under that pretty, pale skin. Sharp contrasted against soft. The g-string snapped when Yamato let go of it, the money safely in place, and he saw Luna’s dick twitch in his pants. The warmth that pooled in the pit of Yamato’s stomach at the sight made him feel guilty. He didn’t know the man, and although he knew Luna's whole job was based around sexual stimulation, he didn’t necessarily want to fall victim to it. He averted his eyes. The moment was over. Luna stood and moved to dance with Sol at the back of the stage.

Kakashi returned to the table not long after and the set continued. He ran through his money quickly and Yamato slid his own over the table for him. He took it with a reluctant nod. In total, Sol and Luna’s set was only fifteen minutes long before they were replaced by someone else, and in that time Luna never offered himself up to be touched by anyone else as he had done Yamato.

‘How are you feeling?’ Kakashi asked after a while. Once he had used up all the singles they had brought and moved to a booth away from the stage, the music loud but not so loud that they couldn’t hold a conversation. Kakashi was draped over one end on the booth, one knee up with his chin propped against it. Yamato opposite, that same beer he had been nursing all evening leaving a ring of moisture on the table.

‘I don’t know how I feel,’ Yamato replied. ‘I’ve never been anywhere like this before.’

‘Listen, I know stuff like this isn’t easy for you. I’m actually proud of you for agreeing to come and seeing it through, I was kinda convinced you’d bail.’

‘I wouldn’t bail. I’m really trying.’

Kakashi’s expression softened. ‘Man, I know that. It’s just. I know I’m pushy and shit but I don’t wanna push you into a breakdown. I’m not good at being serious or whatever but thanks for trusting me, I guess.’

‘You don’t have to worry, I’m not fragile, I’m just… nervous… If I got uncomfortable I would just leave.’ Yamato laughed lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and rubbed a sheepish hand on the back of his head. 

‘I’m proud of you, man,’ Kakashi said, voice light hearted, and the tipped corners of his mouth peaking out from either side of his mask.

Since they had moved back into the dark and away from the stage lights, more passive viewers of the strip club than active participants, Yamato had noticed that the performers who were no longer onstage often came out to interact with the few people in the building. They would lounge over people’s laps, trail their hands up their arms, tip the customer’s heads back to pour vodka from an icy bottle into their open mouths. Yamato hadn’t meant to, had barely even realised, but his eyes kept flickering to where Luna was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, across the lap of one of the drunk business men. The long stretch of his exposed thigh over the man’s cheap looking suit distracting like flashing lights in Yamato’s periphery, their paleness and the way the lights reflected so prettily off his skin a pinpoint he could always see in the otherwise dim room.

‘You like him?’ Kakashi asked, flicking his gaze between Yamato and Luna.

‘He’s pretty…’ 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, that typical glint of mischief that he wore so frequently dazzling in his dark eyes. ‘We could call him over?’ he said

Yamato flustered, heat rising in his cheeks, ‘I don’t think that's-‘

‘Come on! It’s fine you don’t have to have him all over you like that guy, he can just sit at the table with us.’

Yamato continued to protest but Kakashi had already raised from his seat and was walking over to Luna. 

Reflexively, Yamato pushed his body further back into the cheap vinyl of the booth, crossing his arms over his chest. Kakashi had been pushing his comfort levels for months, taking him to increasingly busy and sensory places in an effort to desensitise him, this was all part of the process and Yamato knew it, but to sit and have a conversation with the man who, only one hour ago had been grinding his dick into a stage for Yamato’s viewing pleasure, was a level of overwhelming he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront yet. 

Kakashi returned with Luna in tow, the man he had departed from had ruffled hair and was smoothing down the lap of his suit from the way Luna had run his hands over him. Luna’s eyes never left Yamato as the two of them approached and sat down, Kakashi in his same spot on the other end of the booth and Luna sliding up next to Yamato. That minty cologne tickled his nostrils again.

‘Hi,’ he said and his voice was delicate but thick like sweet orange syrup. He rested a gentle hand on Yamato’s shoulder and leaned into him. 

Yamato swallowed around his words but managed to reply back a small, ‘Hi.’

‘Do you mind if I tell him what’s going on?’ Kakashi asked, voice gentle and reassuring.

Luna looked between the two of them, a question lingering on his tongue but not quite escaping his mouth, the hand on Yamato’s shoulder stroked small circles into the fabric of his shirt and shot tingles up the expanse of his neck and arm.

‘Yeah,’ Yamato replied. ‘That’s fine.’

‘There aren’t many propositions I haven’t heard before, gentlemen,’ Luna said, amusement tinging the edge of his voice.

‘I’m not about to proposition you.’ Kakashi chuckled. ‘It’s about my friend here.’

Luna turned to regard him, that hand still rubbing and incessant. His confusion pinched a furrow into the gap between his eyebrows.

‘My friend, Yamato, is receiving treatment for a mild case of agoraphobia.’ Kakashi stopped and looked to see Luna’s reaction, to see if he would interrupt or react, but Luna’s mouth stayed closed. The only change was that the hand on Yamato’s shoulder stilled. ‘He got diagnosed around eight months ago. Since he started receiving treatment I’ve been taking it upon myself to take him to places I know he wouldn’t feel comfortable going to alone. This is by far the most difficult place we’ve been to and I’m really proud of him. Also he seems to have taken a shine to you.’

‘Oh,’ Luna said, he shifted back slightly on the seat to connect their gazes, though keeping that one point of contact between them under the warm palm of his hand. ‘Is it okay if I touch you like this, Yamato?’

His name on Luna’s lips sounded like a sin.

Yamato nodded and fought the way his body was urging to break their linked eye contact. ’Yeah, it’s fine.’

‘You did well, when you touched me earlier.’ the dancer continued, and Kakashi choked opposite them.

‘You did what earlier?’ he asked.

‘He gave me money.’ Luna’s tone sounded confused about the shock displayed in Kakashi’s voice. 

‘When did you do that?’

‘When you went to the bathroom, it’s really not a big deal.’ Yamato scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

‘It kinda fucking is! I’m so proud of you.’

‘Do you not like proximity, Yamato?’ Luna asked, and those eyes felt like the scratch of a marker pen over his skin, as though the trail that gaze took on Yamato’s face would be visible for everyone to see.

‘I don’t mind it, I need to get better.’

‘Would you like to get better with me?’

Kakashi laughed. ‘I think that would be a great idea,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen him be so flustered by someone before.’

‘Oh really?’ Luna scooted slightly closer on his seat and rested his head in a surprisingly affectionate gesture onto the slope of Yamato’s shoulder. ‘That’s sweet.’

Yamato smiled, just a small quirk of his lips, across the table to Kakashi, who gave him a reassuring nod. 

‘How much for me to get my friend here a dance?’ Kakashi asked and Luna turned his head into the fabric of Yamato’s t-shirt to giggle.

‘He’s cute so I’ll make an exception, but usually my fees are too high for people to afford.’

‘And why is that?’ Kakashi asked.

‘The honest answer would be that I’m not really the hugest fan of people either,’ Luna replied, lifting his head and letting his hand shift onto Yamato’s knee. ‘But I like you, doll. We can go to a private room if it would make you feel more comfortable?’

A private room did sound nice. Away from the noise and the strobing lights, away from the heat of being too close to people even though there was no-one particularly close by them. But to experience Luna on a one-on-one basis was making him feel nervous in a completely different way.

‘I’d,’ Yamato paused. Calmed his breathing to quell the shake in his words. ‘Yeah I’d like that.’

Kakashi barked out a laugh and Luna was so close to Yamato’s side that he heard the saliva break across his teeth as he smiled.

‘So how much do I owe ya for that?’ Kakashi asked.

‘Usually for a lap dance I’d charge $50. Private room for $150. But for you,’ he squeezed Yamato’s knee for emphasis. ‘Private room for $50.’

‘It’s a done deal.’ Kakashi reached a hand across the table and they shook on it. ‘Is there an ATM around here?’

‘There’s one in the entrance. Pay me when we get back.’

Luna stood, the lift of his hand from Yamato’s knee left a cold spot that missed his presence but he quickly rectified it by looping their hands together and tugging Yamato to his feet.

‘Are you ready?’ Luna asked, and their height difference meant that he had to tilt his neck back to make their eyes meet.

‘Huh? Uh, yeah,’ Yamato said. ‘Are you sure this is all right, Kakashi? You don’t have to do this.’ The dancer traced patterns onto the smooth back of his hand as he spoke and it made him fluster and blush.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Kakashi said, waving a dismissive gesture, his gaze already searching around the room for someone to keep him company.

‘Okay, then I’ll… see you later?’ He hadn’t meant to phrase it as a question but the uncertainness in his voice pitched his intonation upwards. It made Luna giggle cutely, two small bursts of pleasant sound.

Luna’s walk was a soft, swaying motion as he lead Yamato to the private rooms, his steps soft and precise as though they were leaving no impression of weight whatsoever in each motion. He didn’t say another word to Yamato as they walked. They had to stop at the bar so that he could sign them into one of the rooms and swipe a key, but aside from that he remained quiet.

The private room was small and located down an easily missable corridor behind the bar. It had a long sofa taking up one wall and a stereo system taking up the other. The lighting was dim, but with a warm undertone, the blue that had been reflecting off Luna’s skin all evening warming slightly peach under the yellow light. He let go of Yamato’s hand and pointed a finger into his chest, backing him gently until his knees were hitting the sofa cushions and he sat down.

‘I understand that it’s not easy to be close to someone you don’t know,’ Luna began, walking over to the sound system and fiddling with it to find the right playlist. He was struck again by how pretty Luna was; those tight black shorts were the only article of clothing he was wearing apart from the peak of his thong and some pointed stiletto shoes. ‘When I first started working here I didn’t know how to talk to anyone.’

‘You didn’t?’ Yamato’s throat was closed and itchy, he felt like a virgin teenager on the cusp of their first experience with intimacy. Clammy palms and unconfident eye contact.

‘I read a lot about what I was supposed to do. I’m pretty and petite… apparently there is a strong market for that, so it made sense to me that I’d be popular.’ The way he spoke was strange in an almost clinical fashion. He continued to fiddle with the music as Yamato tried his hardest to not drink in the sight of him too obviously, the unabashed amount of bare skin on show leaving his eyes unsure of where to rest on Luna’s body.

‘I’m sure you’re very popular.’

‘Hmm,’ Luna stopped to consider, tapping a finger to the apex of his pointed chin. ‘Yes, I suppose. I’ve never had a client like you before though, and I am struggling to figure out how to proceed, doll.’ There was that tacked on nickname again, it sounded strange and uncharacteristic coming from his mouth.

‘I’ve never done this before…’ Was all Yamato could think to say.

‘Usually, I set my prices so high because I don’t want to dance with people,’ Luna continued as though Yamato had not spoken. ‘But I don’t feel that way with you. You seem unthreatening and in need of my assistance. I would like to help you.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’ The more he spoke to Luna, the more he was feeling confused. The contrast of this man’s appearance, the way he danced and teased, to the clinical, awkward way he spoke was a little endearing. It made him seem less intimidating.

‘Yamato, would you feel more comfortable knowing my real name?’

‘Would you feel comfortable telling me it?’

‘I'm not supposed to,’ Luna said. ‘But you feel like an exceptional circumstance.’ He pressed a button and a rhythmic, slow R&B started to play quietly through the room, the sound-proofed walls filtering out the louder music of the club's main room.

‘Would it not be some form of breach of contract?’ Yamato asked.

‘Maybe,’ Luna replied. He stepped away from the sound system and to the space in front of Yamato, moving softly to the music. ‘But I am still asking if you would like to know my real name.’

‘Yes,’ Yamato said. ‘I’d like that.’

Luna smiled slightly, he moved his body along to the music until he was occupying the space between Yamato’s spread legs. He bent down, hands supporting himself on Yamato’s thighs, his mouth tickling against the shell of his ear. 

‘My name is Sai. Please call me that from now on.’

Yamato managed a stiff nod. Those two points of contact under Sai’s hands were shooting tingles through his legs and the tickle of breath against his ear made him shudder.

‘Are you okay with me being this close to you?’ Sai asked, some of his breath sneaking under the loose collar of Yamato’s t-shirt.

‘Yes.’

‘Normally I would not let a client touch me, but if you want to you can,’ Sai said. ‘I’m going to start the lap dance now.’

Yamato managed to laugh at that, catching Sai off guard. He leaned back to check Yamato’s face and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his hands squeezed lightly into the meat of Yamato’s thighs.

‘You seem to be making a lot of exceptions for me,’ Yamato said.

Sai smiled, raising a hand to graze over his cheek. ‘I’m intrigued by you.’

The dancer's hand dropped and he moved to straddle Yamato’s lap, hips grinding lightly against his thighs in time to the slow 4:4 beat of the music. His face was close, so close that their breath was shared, and he kept his eyes monitoring Yamato’s face.

‘Put your hands on me, if it helps to stabilise you. And tell me if you want me to stop.’

‘Yeah,’ Yamato nodded, his intake of breath a little minty. ‘I don’t want you to stop.’

He brought his hands to tentatively clutch at Sai’s small waist and the dancer smiled, a puff of air scattering over Yamato’s face. There was an ass was rubbing against Yamato, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tickling in the delicate hair at the nape of his neck. Yamato’s jeans caught and pulled on his thighs with each back and forth snap of Sai’s hips. There was nothing in his senses but Sai; all soft skin and mint and warm, fanning breath.

It was supposed to be a lap dance but it didn’t feel like one. They were intimate and claustrophobic and cloying together. Sai’s legs moved to wrap around the backs of Yamato’s, his feet no longer touching the floor. His hips were dragging in a slow, torturous rhythm and his muscles were twitching under Yamato’s grip.

‘Sai,’ Yamato said, tilting his head so the way his lips puckered around the dancer’s name didn’t connect their mouths. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Are you?’

‘I’m good.’ His hip twitched when Sai snapped forward harder than before and brushed their groins together. Sai’s breathing staggered on the contact and it made him feel oddly pleased. ‘This doesn’t feel much like a lap dance though.’

‘I could lie to you and say that this is how I treat all my clients, if you like?’ Sai said, the tone of his voice had dropped lower, powdery in exertion.

‘No.’ Yamato risked a move, raising his hands so his fingers fit into the divots between Sai’s ribs. ‘I like the special treatment.’

Sai moved and their lips brushed together. It wasn’t a kiss, but the gloss he was wearing made their mouths catch as he moved to rest his head on Yamato’s shoulder.

‘I don’t know why I’m making all these exceptions for you, doll,’ Sai said into his neck.

‘Is this a lap dance?’ Yamato asked again. Sai’s skin under his hands was smooth and silky and he could feel each ragged breath the dancer took. The pretty sounds he made was sending thick, molten want dragging through Yamato’s body like treacle and the rhythm of his hips was off-time and sporadic. The dancer whined quietly each time their dicks brushed and it reverberated around Yamato’s skull. 

He was dizzy on the feel of him but too scared to move in case it was deemed inappropriate.

‘No,’ Sai gasped out and as the word escaped him he pulled his body forward so they were pressed together like two halves of a zip pulled closed, their lips grazing in another non-kiss as Sai panted against his open mouth.

Yamato groaned and bucked his body upwards, his first deliberate shift of movement. The slide of his clothed hardness sliding against Sai’s made them both gasp. 

‘Is this appropriate?’ he asked breathily.

‘Not at all.’

‘Have you done this before?’

‘At work?’ Sai moved to drag his mouth so it framed Yamato’s plump lower lip and his words caught around the fold of flesh as he enunciated each syllable. ‘No.’

Yamato groaned on a particularly slow drag of Sai against him and wrapped his arms to hold the man more securely locked to his body.

‘Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea,’ he said, though there was no resolve to his words.

‘Would you like me to stop?’

Rather than respond, Yamato spread his legs wider, forcing Sai’s wider as well, and wiggled his hand between their bodies to cup him through his shorts. Sai keened at the contact, the noise high pitched and melodious, and arched his body so his dick pressed eagerly into Yamato’s hand.

‘Is this okay?’ Yamato asked into Sai’s neck, taut from the way he had tipped his head back at Yamato’s touch.

‘Uh-huh,’ he mewled.

Yamato touched him slowly, teasing his fingers so it was just barely a graze over his bulge and then surprising him with a definite press. Sai was surprisingly responsive and animated, considering the detached way he presented himself. He rutted against Yamato’s touch when it was confident and whined for more when he was teased. His hands had rucked up under Yamato’s t-shirt, stretching the material horribly as he rolled the dark buds of Yamato’s nipples between his long, lean fingers.

Yamato pressed his lips into Sai’s neck to stifle a groan and the dancer twitched in his hand.

‘I can’t help but feel that I am letting you down,’ Sai panted as Yamato laved his tongue over that same spot that had the dancer’s cock throbbing. He teased his head though the fabric with his thumb and Sai whimpered on top of him.

‘I don’t see how you could think that.’ Yamato blew against the wet patch of saliva he had left on Sai’s neck like a full stop at the end of his sentence.

‘I was supposed to be helping you.’ The dancer was struggling to get his sentence out through his laboured breathing and it flushed Yamato with pride that he was the one to have flustered him so much. ‘But you seem to be the one doing me the favours.’

‘I’m enjoying myself.’ Yamato dug his thumb a little into the head of Sai’s dick to prove his point and the man on top of him surged forwards to brace himself more steadily against Yamato’s shoulders.

‘You are more confident like this,’ Sai said.

‘Yeah.’

For a while they remained the same, Yamato rubbing Sai loosely through his shorts and Sai panting against his shoulder, but it wasn’t long before the dancer’s whimpers turned to whines of frustration. He tried to press himself more firmly into Yamato’s hand but every time was denied the contact he wanted.

‘Why?’ he choked out after he was denied that definitive pressure for a fourth time, there were tears brimming in his eyes and his body was limp with unfulfilled pressure.

‘I’m sorry,’ Yamato mumbled into his neck, though he continued to tease.

Sai reached between them and stilled Yamato’s action completely, keeping that hand pressed in place against him. He grabbed for the front of Yamato’s trousers and undid them, before hesitating and lifting his head to meet his eyes in question. Yamato nodded and his nervous gulp made the prominent Adam’s apple in his throat bob. Sai leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to it before freeing Yamato from his pants.

His cock was thick and curved, angrily crimson with a glob of precum already dewy along his slit. Sai tapped the pad of his index finger against it and pulled his finger away again just to watch the string of slick connecting his digit to Yamato’s cock head. It made him pant, dick jolting at the delicateness. 

Sai brought his knees up, caging Yamato to the sofa as he raised his weight to shimmy the shorts and thong he was wearing down his thighs in one go. When he sat back down on Yamato’s lap, he made sure to press himself forward so their cocks rested against each other. 

‘Oh god,’ Yamato moaned, his head dropping back to rest against the sofa.

Sai’s dick was similar in length but a little skinnier, his velvety skin looked almost ashy in it’s paleness compared to Yamato’s and the contrast of their warm and cool tones was pleasant to look at. He rutted forward once, just to get Yamato’s attention, and when Yamato lifted his head again to make eye contact he wrapped his hand around them both in one go.

Their groans were harmonious, Yamato pitched low, a guttural sound that reverberated from his throat, while Sai’s were breathy and high. He pumped them both a few times in a light grip, spreading the slick gathering at their tips to smooth the slide of his hand. The music playing in the room was drowned out by the obscene, wet sound of Yamato pushing his cock up into the loose hole of Sai’s hand, of the undersides of their shafts moving against one another.

‘Oh god,’ Yamato said again. He moved to grab at the seam of Sai’s waist, fingers digging into folded space where his legs met his torso. 

Sai let go of them both and the man beneath him huffed. He waited until Yamato looked at him before licking a stripe up the palm of his hand, dribbling a string of saliva that pooled between his fingers and then reaching back down to encircle them again. Sai held them in a tighter grip this time, he braced one of his hands against Yamato’s chest, shuddering in ragged pleasure, the tacky sound of their cocks rubbing through the tight ring of Sai’s hand was loud enough to raise gooseflesh on Yamato’s arms. 

‘Are you still okay?’ Sai asked.

‘Yes,’ he mumbled, the word repeating on each upward stroke of Sai’s hand, chest heaving. He leaned back against the sofa and wrapped an arm over his eyes, his view hidden behind the crook of his elbow as he tried to calm himself.

‘Please look at me, Yamato,’ Sai whimpered, his voice pitchy and unsteady.

Yamato complied.

Sai quickened his pace, both of them bucking and panting and connected through that intense eye contact. The speed of the dancer’s hand sliding over them was hot and unrelenting, the supporting arm he had rested against Yamato’s chest buckled and he fell forward so his forehead was pressed against Yamato’s broad sternum. His breathing tickled through the fine hair on his chest.

Yamato was groaning at a heavy, rhythmic metre in time with Sai’s hand. His fingers at Sai’s waist were digging into that pretty, pale skin so hard that it would probably leave small bruises.

‘I’m going to cum,’ Sai whined against his chest.

‘That’s okay,’ Yamato murmured into the top of his head, nosing into black hair that smelled like cucumber and peppercorns. 

Sai’s body tensed in his arms, a shudder ripped through his body and he let out a long, low groan as he released between them, ropes of cum spurting over his hand and Yamato’s cock. He continued to stroke them through his orgasm, spreading his slick down their shafts as he did. 

His grip fell when his orgasm left his body, his softness resting against Yamato’s achingly hard shaft. He panted into Yamato’s neck, pressing small kisses there before murmuring into Yamato’s ear, ‘Do you want me to help you finish?’

Yamato managed a nod and a hand wrapped back around him, jacking him quick and effective. It only took a few strokes for Yamato to follow Sai’s lead, his load mixing with the dancer’s between them.

They stayed still for a moment to catch their breath before Sai removed his grip on Yamato’s now sensitive cock. Yamato winced at the feeling and he murmured an apology crook of his neck.

‘We need to clean up,’ Yamato said. His voice was scratchy and rough in his throat.

‘Yes.’ 

Sai disentwined from Yamato and the cold air that flooded between them when they separated was unpleasant and jarring. He stood on legs that looked shaky, flaccid dick still hanging from the front of his shorts, and walked to pick up a towel from a cubby at the far end of the room. 

‘Some of the other performers say they get sweaty after dancing,’ he said, wiping his hands, torso and crotch clean. ‘That’s why we keep towels in the private rooms. Personally, I have never experienced that.’

‘No?’ Was about all that Yamato could muster in terms of coherent words. He held his head out, expecting Sai to chuck a towel in his direction, but the dancer walked over, swatted his hand away, and wiped the towel over him himself. Yamato hissed at the contact to his sensitive skin but didn’t resist. Sai even tried to tuck him back into his pants, but the angle made it hard so Yamato reluctantly raised his hips to do it himself. 

‘You are very pretty, Yamato,’ Sai said as he chucked the towels into a rag bin by the rack. ‘I am still intrigued by you.’

Yamato didn’t know how to react to that, couldn’t quite comprehend that someone who looked as unearthly as Sai was complimenting him on his appearance. He reached for the dancer and brought him down again, not to straddle but balanced on his knees on the space of the sofa between Yamato’s legs. 

‘Sai, can I kiss you?’

The dancer giggled, placed his smaller hands over Yamato’s that had naturally come to rest on his waist. ‘It seems out of order, don’t you think?’ he said, but he leaned forwards slightly nonetheless. ‘Should we not have kissed before I gave you a handjob?’

Yamato laughed at the question, leaning in so their foreheads were pressed together. That pleasant mint was back in his senses.

‘Perhaps,’ he said.

Sai was the one to press their lips together. Short and chaste and three times in a row. He was smiling against Yamato’s mouth when they parted.

‘Don’t pay me.’ Sai said as he stood, dragging Yamato to his feet as well.

‘What?’

‘Don’t let your friend pay me for the dance.’

He leaned up and pressed another kiss to Yamato’s lips, closed mouth but long. The kind of kiss that boiled slowly like a pot of water heating over a stove, and when they parted the tack of the gloss somehow still on his lips made their lips stick and break reluctantly from each other. Sai smiled and it was almost hesitant, half hidden under a band of pretty dark lashes as he wrapped their hands together.

‘Let’s go,’ he said.

They walked from the room and Sai dropped his hand when the door closed behind them. That incessant thrumming music and those unsettled lights swept up Yamato’s senses again. Sai’s attitude shifted back into the impassiveness of Luna the further into the heart of the club they got, the sway of his hips more pronounced. He slipped the key to the room they had occupied back to the bartender and his eyes were dull and half lidded. 

When they arrived back at the table Kakashi was sitting at, Sai reached up on tiptoes to whisper against the shell of his ear.

‘Will you come back?’

Yamato flushed, though it was lost under the harsh lights.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Yeah I’ll come back, if you like?’

Sai rested his feet flat again, their height difference once again severely noticeable. He nodded and brushed his hand so his pinky finger looped around Yamato’s briefly.

‘Yes, come back.’

‘Okay,’ he said. The smile he gave was small and private and only for Sai, staring up at him with that deceptively impassive expression. 

Yamato stepped away to sit in the booth opposite his friend who was smirking at him over the rim of tall glass and Sai walked away from the table, ignoring the stack of money clearly for him sitting on the table in front of Kakashi.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow at his retreating figure but didn’t question it. He slid the money off the table and into his pocket.

‘So,’ he said in a lilting tone. ‘Did you have fun?'

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave me some feedback as it helps me out greatly. I created this new AO3 account specifically as a way to use the Naruto universe as a way to improve my writing skills which are rusty and out practice. I'm hoping to focus on ship dynamics that I feel are under-represented in the Naruto universe on AO3 and I've always had a soft spot for Yamasai because they are my two favourite characters. So if you have any ships you would like to see more represented then please let me know and I can add them to my list of ships I would like to explore!
> 
> Also, this fic is currently a stand-alone piece but is clearly left in a place where it can be continued if people are interested so, again, just let me know.
> 
> Basically, I'm just wanting to get my writing game up to par again so if you have something you'd like to see realised just shoot me a message and I'll probably consider it.
> 
> Also also, I understand that this fic isn't accurate or representative of what the experience of a strip club is like, this is just an idea that has been floating around in my brain.


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